


Money Shot

by trickyDingo



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blow Jobs, Crossdressing, Facials, M/M, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-04
Updated: 2012-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-09 04:44:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/451429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trickyDingo/pseuds/trickyDingo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bro/Dirk smut for <a href="http://thegimpyopossum.tumblr.com/"> Matt </a> based on their headcanon. <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Money Shot

Your fingers move nimbly over one of the last pieces for your new robot. You’re almost done and the excitement to look at it all together begins to grow in your stomach. You’ve been planning this one out for weeks and today was the first day you’ve actually been able to devote all your time to it. You’re nearly finished and connecting the head to the body when you hear someone throw your door open. You try not to heave a sigh when you hear your name being called.

“Dirk!”

“Go away, I’m busy.”

“I need you to do me a favor.”

“No.”

“Come on, kiddo, I never ask you to do anything.”

“That’s a load of shit, Bro.”

You feel his hand on your back when he leans over your shoulder to get a good look at what you’re working on. You feel protective and want to hunch over it, but push away the childish feeling.

“It’s pretty good,” he gives a shrug and straightens up.

“Thanks,” you reply nonchalantly, not letting him in on the fact that it makes you feel proud that he thinks so.

“So you gonna help me now?”

“Bro, I seriously want to finish this.”

“It’ll take two minutes,” he tugs at the strap of your ironic wife beater and you know he’ll never give up until you agree. The sooner you get it over with, the sooner you can get back to your project.

“Fine. I’ll help you,” you agree after a moment, sighing as you push back from your worktable.

He claps you on the shoulder and steers you out of the room.

As you walk down the hall to whatever it is that he needs, you pass by the bathroom. Your bladder gives a little squeeze, reminding you that you haven’t gone since this morning. You ignore it for the moment, but after another step, it squeezes painfully.

“Wait, Bro. I have to go to the restroom.”

“I told you two minutes, kiddo, can’t ya hold it?”

You glance down the hall towards the bathroom and then back at him. You guess you can, if it really is only going to be _two_ minutes. You know it won’t.

Bro steers you into his bedroom and you get a growing feeling of dread as you take in the way it’s set up. So he wants _that kind_ of help. You’re starting to realize you’ve made a **huge** mistake when he goes to his closet and pulls out a garment bag.

“Wait, no, fuck this shit, Bro. Get Dave to help you,” you shoot at him, starting for the door. Bro flashsteps in front of you and you can see the maniacal grin on his face.

“Striders keep their word, little man,” he tells you, his fingers tracing your cheeks and lifting the shades off of your eyes. You fight the urge to snap them shut, before he pushes you towards the bed.

“Let’s get this over with,” you tell him as he sits you down on the edge of the bed and returns to the garment bag.

“Put this on and I’ll be back with my camera.”

“You mean _Dave’s_ camera.”

“That little shit bought it with _my_ money. That makes it _mine_.”

You roll your naked eyes and watch him slip out of the room. At least he left you alone to change. But, Jesus, you have to pee and you sincerely hope this takes less than ten minutes.

So why do you have a sneaking suspicion it won’t?

You let out a small, resigning huff, as you pick up the garment bag.

The garment bag contains the world’s frilliest piece of shit dress and you grimace when you pull it out. It’s the ugliest shade of pastel pink, with white bows and frills adorning the skirt. The sweetheart neckline makes you groan when you think about putting it on. At least it has halter tie so it will stay mostly in place. You put it down on the bed gently and pull out the remaining items in the bag.

A pair of white thigh highs that have pink bows on the frills at the top that you know will only reach the top of your knees, a white petticoat that makes you want to kick Bro in the balls, and a pair of white panties, with mesh lace decorating the top that makes you regret ever being born.

You know you have very little time before Bro will _make_ you put them on.

As you slip out of your clothes, you reach for the panties first. The feel of the cotton rubbing against your legs as you pull them on sends a little shiver down your spine. You desperately don’t want to admit that you might be a _little_ turned on by them. The stockings go on next and you spend a moment staring at your own legs in them.

What the fuck are you doing?

You quickly slip on the dress, ready to get everything over with so you can go take a piss, maybe jack off, and go back to your project.

The door opens and Bro is back, camera in hand, right as you’re tying the halter top into a bow. You feel his eyes scan the dress and he gives an appreciative smirk. You want to slap it off his face as you turn around.

“Zip me up, let’s get this over with.”

You turn around as he approaches and you feel the skin of his fingers dance along your spine as he reaches for the zipper. You ignore the pang in your bladder; the twitch of your dick.

When you’re zipped up, you turn around and he takes a step back. His fingers brush along your collar bone, trace the neckline of the dress. You bat his hand away and tell him to hurry.

“You’re impatient,” he smirks and points to the plain backdrop he has hanging over his bookshelf. You take your place there, for the second time. The first time was much more tame; just you in briefs posing with smuppets. As far as you know, Dave has been here much more often than you have.

You wish you could deny the jealousy that bubbles inside you when you think about it.

You take your seat in the wooden chair that’s set up, and you feel your bladder complain from the pressure. You resist the urge to stand up, but have to ask.

“Are you sure I can’t go to the bathroom, first?”

“We’re already set, come on,” Bro growls at you in exasperation and you give a small sigh. He sets the camera on the waiting tripod and gives you a thumbs up. 

You know what you’re supposed to do, wait for him to get behind the camera to pull your body into a position you know his customers would pay to see. You hike the skirt up a little, show a little bit of skin, and stretch your body across the chair.

Bro compliments you and the part of you that gets excited like a dog makes you want to punch yourself. The other part is too concerned about the growing need to piss; you strike another pose and let him take more pictures of you.

It’s growing increasingly difficult to keep yourself calm; you’re about five minutes from pissing yourself.

“Bro, I have to go to the bathroom. _Please,_ ” you nearly beg and you can see the small smirk form on his face.

“You’re a big boy, you can hold it.”

You nearly flush with humiliation and resentment.

This has nothing to do with your age; this has everything to do with the fact that you haven’t gone since this morning and he dragged you into this stupid fucking porn shoot for his website when all you wanted was to work on your robot today.

You take in a quiet breath, collect yourself and switch positions.

It was a mistake.

You feel your bladder threatening to let go and you quickly contract your muscles to stop anything from leaking out. It sends a bolt of pain into the pit of your stomach and you hold the grimace back that wants to spread across your lips.

“That’s not a very sexy pose, kiddo,” Bro teases and you want to snarl at him.

You pull yourself into something more ideal, and curse yourself when you feel a small patch of warmth spread across those white panties. When you move again, you try to do so slowly; keep anything from leaking out.

It’s all in vain and you can feel yourself growing wetter. It’s warm and you really wish you could deny how turned on you feel by this whole situation. You look up at Bro, ask to use the bathroom one last time.

“Stop whining, we’re almost done. Just one last shot, alright?”

“Fine,” you reluctantly agree.

You wish you hadn’t.

Bro picks up the camera, changes the settings and puts it back down on the tripod. He takes a step towards you and your eyes watch him as he moves.

“Lift up your skirt,” he motions to the hideous thing.

You can’t. You can’t show him what you’ve done. He’ll never let you live it down. You don’t move a single inch.

“I told you to lift your skirt up, Dirk,” Bro’s expression grows dark. You feel nervous; wonder what he’s going to do, but don’t let it show in your face as you lift the skirt up like it’s nothing. You feel a little bit of piss run down your leg as you expose yourself.

“Look what you’ve done to your pretty, little panties,” he hums, closing the distance between you. He takes his place beside you; you know he’s taking into account the camera angle. His hand traces down the front of your dress, slips in and toys at your nipples.

You contain the hiss, but squeeze your legs shut.

“Keep your legs open,” he commands, retracting his hand and slipping behind the chair. You hesitantly open your legs. You feel a stream of piss leak from your dick and soak through your panties.

Bro tsks in your ear. “Can’t even hold a little pee, can ya?”

You want to let it all go, feel your bladder begging you to do so.

“If you finish wetting yourself now, you’re going to ruin these pretty clothes I made for you.”

“You can just fucking wash them,” you growl at him; unable to contain your bad mood.

You just wanted to work on your fucking robot.

Bro gives your face a light smack, and runs his hands down your body. “Don’t talk back to me.” You feel his hands squeeze at your ribs, moving down to your hips. He’s trying to make you piss yourself more. He keeps one hand on your waist as the other leaves your body. When it returns into your field of vision, you can see he’s removed his leather glove.

You spend less than a second realizing what he’s going to do with it and reach to bat it away. His free hand grabs your wrist tight. He slips his hand underneath your panties; cups your dick underneath it.

“You going to be a good boy for me?” he purrs into your ear.

The hand at your waist begins to tickle at your ribs. You lose a little bit and Bro smirks.

“I didn’t think you would. Go ahead, wet yourself.”

You don’t want to, but it sounds so tempting and you don’t think you can hold it back for one more moment. You turn your head as you begin to piss yourself. Bro’s hand leaves your waist, wraps his fingers around your chin and forces your face down.

“I want you to watch you humiliate yourself,” he growls.

You can’t help the small blush that you feel rush across your cheeks. This is humiliating and _so fucking hot._

You watch the piss run down your legs and soak into your stockings. Bro’s fingers tighten around your shaft and you let out a small noise when it sends a shot of pain into your body. He lets go after a second and the relief that comes with it is nearly euphoric.

When your bladder finally empties itself you let out a soft sigh. Bro withdraws his hand from your panties and you think it’s over, when he brings it up to rest against your lips. The smell makes you try to turn your head, but Bro’s hand is tight on your chin.

“Lick it clean.”

You don’t want to, but you find yourself more turned on from the situation by the minute without the pain distracting you. You open your mouth; flick your tongue across one of his fingers. The taste isn’t as bad as it smells.

Bro growls into your ear and nips at the skin on your neck. You give a small hiss, before dragging your tongue across his hand. You feel yourself growing hard beneath your panties. Bro pushes his fingers into your mouth and you suck on them eagerly. They push deeper, driving into the back of your throat. You take them in without gagging and you can hear the impressed tone in Bro’s voice.

“That’s a good boy,” he gives your head a little pat and despite the humiliation you feel from it; your dick grows harder still.

It strains uncomfortably against the wet fabric of the panties and you reach down to free it from its restraints. You feel relieved to be able to wrap your hand around the flesh and Bro takes in your actions.

“You’re a little slut,” he coos, and fists your hair. He pulls your head back and pushes his fingers deeper into your throat. “You like that, don’t you?”

Your thumb rubs the precum around the head of your dick, while Bro’s fingers pull back and push into your throat. You love the way it feels; wish his dick was in your mouth.

You speed up your hand and Bro reaches down to still it. He drags his hand back up your body and behind your neck. You feel him untie your straps, before he tells you to stand up. You quickly comply; feel agitated when he pulls his fingers from your mouth. They trail across your collar bone, scratching lightly as the dip over your shoulder blades and down your spine. His fingers catch the zipper and you feel the dress loosen on your body. It falls to the floor and you step out of it quickly. Bro kicks it off to the side and watches where it lands. He places a hand on your shoulder.

“How are you gonna make it up to me?”

You don’t hesitate to drop to your knees. Your hands are quick to undo his belt and pull open the button of his pants. His hand drops to your head, gives it a small pet.

“Good boy.”

You unzip his jeans and pull them off of his hips, before dipping into his pants and pulling out his dick. It’s only half hard and already huge, and you think you might be drooling from the desire to put it in your mouth.

You waste no time in wrapping your lips around his cock.

Bro tangles his fingers in your hair as you take him deeper, desperate to feel him hit the back of your throat. When you take him all the way in, you hum around him; feel his fingers tighten. You wrap your arm around his waist and look up at him. You know you look needy, desperate, but you do _need_ this _so bad._

Bro takes one look at your flushed face and pleading eyes, before he fists your hair and begins to thrust into your mouth. You let out a moan around his cock; opening your mouth wider to take all of him in. A little bit of spit slips down your chin and you know you look like the perfect whore right now.

You feel so fucking good.

Bro bucks hard into the back of your throat and you let out another moan. You love the way it feels when he fucks your mouth; takes complete control over you. You stare up at him, absolutely sure he’s staring right back down at you.

You can’t ignore the throbbing in your dick anymore and you reach you free hand down to wrap around your shaft. Bro watches this, tsks at you.

“You getting’ off on just your face gettin’ fucked?” he shoots down at you, every word emphasized by his thrusts. “Such a little slut.” His hand untangles from your hair and smoothes it down as if you were his pet.

You want to be his pet.

You time your hand with his thrusts and it feels so good that you’re struggling to hold back. You would never come before Bro. You slow down, but when Bro speeds up, you are desperately pulling yourself back from the edge. Bro’s hand re-tangles in your hair as he slams himself as far as he can into your throat. He’s quick to yank your head back and pull out of your mouth. You choke back the whimper of pain and anticipation. You keep your mouth wide open as he gives himself two jerks and spills on your face.

When you taste some of the cum that gets in your mouth, you only jerk your hand a few times before you’re coming on yourself. Bro rubs his dick along your lips and hums down at you.

“Stay just like that, don’t move,” he commands you. He tucks himself back in before walking behind his camera. He changes the settings, snaps a few pictures, before returning back in front of you.

“That’s the money shot,” he smirks at you and you resist the urge to punch him in the dick. He puts the camera down on the chair and reaches out to pet your hair.

“You can go back to your little project now,” he tells you.

But you shake your head, dip your fingers into his jizz and lick them clean.

“I’m not done,” you purr up and him.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he yanks you up and pushes you towards the bed. It dawns on you that you had every right to be jealous of Dave.

You’re going to put on the best show and pay him back tenfold for his gloating.

 


End file.
